As Good as it Gets
by Turkaholic
Summary: Tseng and Reno think about what they mean to each other short drabble Angst, Shonen-Ai, Yaoi


This is pretty much just a short drabble as a kind of character exploration

This is pretty much just a short drabble as a kind of character exploration. Its nothing spectacular - its mostly thought based. Nonetheless, here you go

...oh yeah and reviews, as always, are welcome.

"So, this is really good enough for you?"

… Now there was a question I'd never hoped to hear – especially from those damn lips, and it was something that took me completely off guard. Is this really good enough for me… heh. A sore subject, if you really want the truth, but… how the hell do you answer a question like that? Trust me, I'm stupid… too stupid to think of a good answer for that one. In the end I just shrugged and looked up at him blankly.

"…Ain't this as good as it gets?"

Damn… maybe I never should have even opened my fat ugly mouth on that one – the look on Tseng's face was pretty much unbearable, looking down at me with that way too blank frown on his face as he moved the sweat-soaked hair from out of my eyes. I hate it when Tseng does that, I may as well be looking at a blank wall, the amount of emotion he lets leak out when he looks at me like that. Makes me feel totally clueless about the guy sometimes on what he's thinking – this being one of those times. But I guess that's the point. He likes using that goddamn look on me cause he knows exactly what it does to me. It makes me feel uncomfortable as hell. Even now in my own bed it makes me feel awkward, and we're talking about me, here – the guy that walked naked into work with a smile on my damn face, just cause Rude dared me to. That's the thing about Tseng; he's the only one who knows how to push my buttons.

All my buttons.

I felt him roll from on top of me and sigh, an arm still around my waist like I was about to just get up and run like hell as soon as he let go. That's something I've noticed about Tseng nowadays – the arm thing, In a way it pisses me off, I mean hell I'm not about to up and walk out right now, he must think I'm outta my damn tree and swinging from the branches if he thinks that's what I'm planning, but in another way it makes me feel… Is there even a word for it without sounding like a complete girl? Protected? No, it aint that… I don't need to be protected I can rely on myself for that, but there's just something about the guy when he isn't shouting me into oblivion from behind a desk that makes me feel… safe, as pansy as it sounds. Well… as safe as anyone can feel in this stinking town. I sighed tiredly and rolled over to look at his face. He was still examining me with his way too perceptive brown eyes, reading my damn thoughts as usual. I raised an eyebrow as a long Wutaian finger trailed on my hip idly.

"Are you so sure about that, Reno?" A sigh, a long hand curling itself into my hair, a frown on his face - a frown on mine, too. "You really believe this is all you'll ever be?"

I'm a simple guy, a fucked up one, I'll admit, but basically a simple guy, and Tseng confuses the hell out of my poor tiny little brain when he talks like this. Hah, like I could ever be anything more than I am right now – a Turk, a Shinra scumbag. When he's out of the uniform it's almost like the guy tries to ignore the fact that Shinra pretty much owns me… us. That the fucking company has us on little bell collars, doing its dirty work like trained chimps. Tseng of all the damn people in Midgar should know that, right? Sometimes I think he just chooses to forget reality. I'm not going anywhere, I know that. And so should he.

I wonder what the reaction was he wanted… a fucking sonnet? A damn theatrical monologue? Naw, I'm not smart or quick enough for that crap. The only answer I could even contemplate making was to slide an arm up his back and move closer to him, resting my head on his shoulder with a tired sigh.

--

I don't want to allow him to end his days like me. I believe that's why I ask that question so often, despite the fact that I know well he doesn't want to address it. I don't want to see him grow up to be as I am – left working for Shinra until my dying day, until they… 'Retire' me, or until I get a bullet to my gut. One way or another, I have accepted my place now, and I don't want to see this boy do the same. He has a brain, no matter how he might try to drown it out with cheap alcohol, and I want to see him get to use it someday.

…It's strange, isn't it? How a delinquent like Reno – a loudmouthed, bigoted idiot at times – can invoke such protectiveness in me. Of course even before this happened, he was important to me – he was one of my Turks, and no matter how much of a moron he can be, it was still my responsibility to keep him alive. Now however, the protectiveness I feel is somewhat more… personal. Despite trying my best to keep personal feelings at bay, this complete asshole has become important to me. How is it possible? I don't know, and I doubt whether even the gods themselves could tell me. All I know is I want to protect him, and I do not want him to end his days in a blood-spattered suit… like I am more than likely going to be.

I continued tracing a finger over his hip as he buried a head in my shoulder, avoiding my question, as was expected. One thing I can say about Reno is that he is very… predictable at times – he always avoids a question when he feels uneasy with the answer, he always smirks when he tries to act to the crowds, he always pretends to be ignorant in the hope that people wont see the spark of intelligence and compassion that he tries to muffle behind the snide comments and lecherous actions. But I've got him sussed now, as much as I can, and he knows it. That's why he looks away when I ask him things like this, why he pretends to be asleep or deaf or 101 other things whenever I ask him a question that will actually tax his brain – he knows I can see past that mask he wears and it scares him…

…just as he does with me.

I wrapped my other arm round his back and closed my eyes. It was pointless to carry on questioning him right now anyway – more than likely the little fool would pretend to be asleep, and I'd be left to talk to myself.

As good as it gets? For me, perhaps, but not for him. I won't allow it to happen, can't allow it to happen. I'll convince him there's something more, even if it kills me. Which, knowing Reno, it probably will. I simply peered down at him tiredly, eyes closed and nuzzling sleepily into my chest. Apparently he liked doing that, over the months that I and he had had this little 'arrangement' I'd picked up on little things he tended to do, probably without even noticing it. I suppose that's what happens when someone becomes important to you – you tend to notice more about their quirks, and Reno definitely has a lot of those. This was one of them – nuzzling into my chest as though there's nowhere else he'd like to be – and therein lies the danger of this affair. The fact that he's become so attached to me. And… actually the same applies to me. I've tried to put these problems to the back of my mind, but nonetheless they're always there and at some point they have to be addressed - We're Turks…

-- -- --

… And one of us is gonna die one day. I know it, somewhere in my oh so sick gut I know either him or me is gonna walk into a bullet one day. Hell, it could be tomorrow for all I know. I know Tseng thinks about it a lot – you can see it sometimes in that stoic miserable looking face of his, that he's thinking about just that.

… Sometimes, you know, you just wanna forget your machoism and tell a guy you love him? But hell we're Turks, it doesn't work like that. Even here, lying in Tseng's arms like a kid it doesn't work like that. You don't get to drop the façade here. I think that's why this thing suits me and Tseng so well. We both know that we aint gonna get any more than what we have right now. There's gonna be no growing old together, no cheesy anniversaries, no stupid moonlit walks and crap like that. We both get that, and we have… some kinda understanding of each other that doesn't need words. Which is great, because all that ever comes out of my mouth is crap anyway.

I placed a quick kiss on Tseng's chest and felt him tighten his grip around me, long Wutaian fingers gripping slightly to my back as he let out a long slow breath, then slowly lowered his hands, almost trying to keep as much in contact as possible as he pulled the bedcovers over us silently.

I guess this is pretty much as far as affection is ever gonna go for us. Three words that other idiots get to say everyday are words me and the miserable bastard underneath me are never gonna get to say, even if it makes me feel like someone's ripping my damn entrails out that I can't. But I guess it goes with the territory - We're Turks and that's the way it's gotta be. All we've got is right now, wether Tseng wants to believe that or not, no matter what 'inspirational' crap he tries to stick in my none-too-smart scummy little brain. We're both gonna die in this suit one way or another so we may as well enjoy this… love affair or whatever the hell you call it. I mean after all, this is all we've got.

I glanced up at the raven hair strewn over Tseng's chest, then up to the man himself who seemed to be spaced out staring at the ceiling, thinking about fuck knows what as he curled my 'tail round his fingers.

Yeah… Tseng can pretend all he wants, try to make me feel better but I aint stupid. I know the score as much as he does. This aint a fairytale where we live happily ever after in some little cottage made of candy. Whatever way you think of it, this thing ends when one of us takes a bullet. I aint forgotten that, but unlike Mr I'm-a-walking-Armageddon, I'm not about to let it get to me.

Not right now anyway.

I nuzzled into warm dark skin one more time and closed my eyes, trying to get these stupid thoughts out of my head and get some sleep. It's not like my life's exactly a goddamn living hell anyway. Well… not nowadays. I just know who I am… what I am, and this is as good as it gets.


End file.
